Ripples of pleasure hummed through his balls, up his shaft, as his come heated and gathered until he couldn’t take it anymore. He came in a blinding, white-hot tide that crashed over him once, twice, oh, fuck… his third orgasm roared through him.
Satin walls milked him as Serena matched him climax for climax. He was used to multiple orgasms—it rocked to be an incubus—but he knew they were a rarity for the females of most species. The guaranteed ability to climax over and over with a Seminus demon was the draw for many females, and as he came down from his fifth, he settled in to watch Serena have a couple more.
Panting, he eased to the side to keep from squishing her, but he held her close, turning her into him so he was still inside her, could still feel the clench of her inner walls as she came again. Her head fell back, her eyes closed, and she let out little gasps of pleasure.
“Josh, oh… ah… yes.” She convulsed, and he dropped his hands to her butt to press her closer.
Normally, he immediately pulled out and away, left the female to writhe in pleasure while he made his escape. But this was Serena. They’d talked about the rush, the burn of the hunts they enjoyed, but he’d never felt those things with any female… any female but Serena. Sex with her was the ultimate rush, the ultimate burn, and he was going to be here to enjoy every single moan, gasp, and shudder.
“Wraith.” His voice was a guttural whisper against her ear. “Call me Wraith when you come.”
“Now,” she moaned. “I’m coming now… Wraith.”
He fucking came again when he heard her call out his name in her release. Afterward, they collapsed together, their skin slick with perspiration, their lungs sucking oxygen like there wasn’t enough on the train.
“Thank you,” she said, taking a ragged breath. “God, thank you.”
She was thanking him? She’d given him a miracle, had sacrificed her own life to give him something he didn’t deserve.
So no, he didn’t deserve thanks, and he wasn’t sure he should thank her, either.
Because Serena had saved his life, but in a way, she’d killed him a little, too.
Twenty-two
Eidolon experienced a strange mix of relief and anxiety as he hung up the phone after speaking with Wraith. Shade sat across from him in E’s office, jaw working overtime on a piece of gum, waiting for the news.
Wraith had retrieved the charm, which explained why Eidolon suddenly felt like running a marathon, but it sounded like his brother had fallen for the human, and that was only going to end in disaster. Especially because he’d all but ordered E to find a way to save her at all costs, and nothing Eidolon said could convince Wraith otherwise.
“Shade, he got the charm, but it’s not all good news—”
Reaver walked—or, more accurately, stumbled— -through the door. The angel’s hair, normally blindingly shiny and perfect, was tangled and dull, falling around sunken, bloodshot eyes. His hands were black with dried blood, his skin so white his veins beneath it read like a road map of misery.
“What the fuck?” Shade asked, coming to his feet as if to catch Reaver.
“Forget me,” Reaver croaked. “Serena. Need to protect her.”
“Oh, now you’re ready to help?” E asked, and Reaver bowed his head in a nod. “Good. What’s special about the necklace?”
“There are things I can’t say.” Reaver met E’s gaze, his cracked lips set in a stubborn line.
“Dammit, Reaver, it’s been stolen, and it sounds like it’s a pretty damned big deal.”
The very last drop of color drained from Reaver’s face. He began to sway, and Eidolon shot to his feet to catch the angel before he keeled over. Fortunately, Reaver caught himself on the wall.
Good. Eidolon hated to admit it, even to himself, but the idea of touching someone of divine origins gave him the willies.
“It can’t be,” Reaver said. “What you’re saying is impossible.”
“I’m telling you, it’s not. I need to know about the necklace. Right now.”
Reaver’s pale blue eyes were diamond sharp but haunted when he locked them with Eidolon’s. “The pendant,” he said, in a clipped voice that made every syllable vibrate, “is Armageddon on a chain.”
Shade stopped chewing his gum. “Come again?”
“The amulet. It’s a piece of Heaven.”
“Ah… Heaven? Literally?”
“Yes.”
E exchanged looks with Shade, because this was big. Beyond big. “Reaver, we need to know more.”
Reaver raked his fingers through his hair. Eidolon gave the angel a minute to compose himself, because he still looked like he was on the verge of coming out of his skin. Finally, Reaver stopped messing with his mane but started pacing—slowly and with a limp, but pacing.
“In the Daemonica, there is mention of a celestial lock and key.”